Forever Young
by Autumn37
Summary: Charming family one-shots. Post-curse, Pre-curse, AU...You name it, I write it. Started off as a one-shots with an OC character, but has now changed to whatever my mind comes up with and the requests made by readers. Prompts welcomed!
1. Growing Up Charming

**PLEASE READ! IMPORTANT!**

**Hello! I'm back! I used to be a regular writer on , but I needed to take time away. **

**This story is the longest in the series of one shots so far. They get shorter, if long chapters aren't your thing.**

**Now this is a story with a new spin on it, it is the world after everyone settles things in Storybrooke and resume residence in the Enchanted Forest. I would like to think that after everyone has lived in our current world, that the Enchanted Forest has become somewhat of a hybrid. (Half-medieval timey, half-modern day). Also in this world, everyone ages until they turn twenty-eight, then stop aging. This particular story follows the shenanigans of Snow and Charming's daughters, assuming they had another daughter. **

**REMEMBER in Disney's _Mulan_, where her aunt and mother bathe her and help her get ready? And that it was socially acceptable in their time? Or in the film, _Girl in Progress_, when the protagonist's mom washes her hair? In this story, it is the same.**

**This story will be a series of one-shots I believe, really just depends if people like my writing or not. I am still deciding, but lo and behold. My first one-shot. Enjoy! **

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><p><span><em>Growing up Charming<em>

The enchanted forest may be, well…_enchanting_ in the eye of a tourist. But, in the eyes of its residents, the forest itself has proven to be the source of some of the harshest winters. Even the late Queen Eva named the current queen, Snow White because she was born in the midst of one of the most bitter of them all. Therefore, when the snow begins to melt and the sun begins to warm the land with its inviting rays, the inhabitants of the enchanted forest are just itching to get out and experience spring's temperateness. And that is exactly what I intend to do today!

The sun is high in the sky by the time I reach my desired destination. Willow's River. The name derives from the fact that the river abides in the midst of several willow trees. It is one of the most enchanting rivers that dwells deep in the forest. It is located about five miles outside of the kingdom, but no one really knows about it. It is quite abandoned, but that is what makes it the best place to come and relax. Away from society, away from the hustle and bustle, and the daily demands. It is also wonderful because it isn't polluted and trashed or tampered with in any way. It has grown naturally. The water is so clear, you can see all the way to the bottom without any effort at all. The riverbed looks like mosaic art because the pebbles that lay on it, are so pure and colorful as they reflect the sunlight. Cattails border both sides of the river, growing tall enough to brush against my chest. And I love it.

I discovered this wonderfully secluded area about a year ago, and this is where I come to find refuge, a safe haven if you will, when things become overwhelming. I even managed to sneak away a long rope, which I tied to one of the sturdier branches of a tree, to serve as a swing of sorts. Being the daughter of a former bandit, thankfully the task didn't prove to be too difficult. Overall, the area has become my own personal domain and I wouldn't have it any other way. The weather was about sixty-eight degrees, which would be cold to some people, but after a whole season of the weather being well below fifteen degrees…This. Is. Heaven. I may have also used a bit of light magic to make the water temperature match the weather's temperature. No biggie.

I lay on my back, letting the soft current engulf me, and the sun's rays warm my pale skin. Every once in a while I do a few back strokes in order to stay relatively in the same place. My toes wiggle and softly splash the water around. My ocher brown hair glowing, and gracefully dancing around in the water, and I smile profoundly. How I missed this. Being somewhat cooped up in my residential quarters for six months, made me utterly desperate for my paradise place. The water is like a dear friend, calm and serene, that engulfs me in the gentlest embraces, which make me feel as though nothing can go wrong.

"Having fun?" a voice says from above, which startles me into a crouched position, which everyone assumes when they are in water, and instantly cover my more-so exposed chest. My wet hair mats down against my face, shoulders, and back. So I have to push it away from my eyes, which reveals an armed soldier on the back of a military horse. The soldier is dressed from head to toe in silver armor, a silver helm with a visor that covers the face, and a sword strapped to the hip. I look at the soldier in fear, wondering what he may want with me. That was until I got a closer look at the crest that appears on the horse's collar. The royal crest, with flowers that mirror the one I've seen multiple times on my sister's wrist. A freaking royal knight. Damn it!

"I was." I begin, still covering my chest. "Until you came along." The knight lets out a small laugh before moving to remove the helm. Upon its removal, long, sleek, dark hair falls onto the owner's back, revealing a very familiar face. "Mulan."

"In the flesh." She says. "Now get out here." I glare at her for a few seconds, contemplating on whether or not ignoring her would be successful, but after a few moments I realize that she will just come in after me. With an annoyed sigh, I stand to full height, which isn't very tall. Five feet in stature. And I slowly wade my way towards the river bank, hoping my snail-like movements will prolong my getting out of here. But unfortunately my serene moment has come to an end, and I find myself standing in front of this knight. Dripping wet, in a two piece bathing suit, and an irate look upon my face.

"And you are here…why?" I ask, with my arms crossed over my chest.

"What in the world are you wearing?!" She exclaims, completely ignoring my question. Coming from a world that has not fully progressed in society, and has some kind of a twisted moral code that incorporates medieval ideals and contemporary ideals. _Yeah_. Bikini. A big no-no. At least when we are in the enchanted forest that is. "Here, let's cover you up." Mulan takes off her cape-like thing, quickly drops it on my shoulders, and wraps it around my entire body. Much like a mother would her two year old before they went out into the winter snow.

"I'm fine." I say shortly, moving to take the stupid thing off.

"No." She tells me with an air finality, wrapping the thing around me even tighter. I would argue, but then I realize that even though escaping in a bathing suit is an easy task because you are all stealthy and ninja-like, riding into the kingdom on a royal horse, with a well-respected knight, yeah a bikini doesn't seem that great. "We could stand out here discussing the dirty details, but I have strict orders to return you as soon as possible."

"Well, wouldn't want to keep everyone waiting, now would we?" I say, using the cape to dust off my feet, not caring if Mulan would get mad at the action or not. Retrieving socks from inside of each of my boots, gliding the socks on, and slipping my feet into my red cowboy boots. With the help of my keeper (_cue the eye-roll_) I swing my leg over the horse and straddle the animal, while Mulan takes residence behind me. "Can't I just stay here a little longer?" I ask with a whine. She smiles down at me, laughing inwardly at my mischief, and a glint in her dark eyes.

"Sorry." She shrugs. "Orders from the King and Queen. _Princess_." She emphasizes the princess and if she were a kid around my own age, I would have decked her in the mouth.

~.~

Riding through the entrance of the kingdom, in the custody of the royal's most beloved knight, was completely mortifying. Once we crossed the damn drawbridge and ride through the inner ward, I brought the cape up above my head and leaned against the horse. That way no one could see my identity and I would be spared by the kingdom's royal gossips. And when I say royal, I don't mean that they are the king and queen's subjects. I mean it in the context of saying "a royal pain in the ass." Once we make it to the castle doors, I am forced to get off the horse and lead the way through the castle.

Although, when I find myself walking down one of the castle's corridors, I feel my utter defiance begin to creep back in. I feel the way all teenagers do when they know they are about to get in trouble unjustly, for simply wanting to do something that would be fun. _For once_. An intense boldness begins to overcome my entire body, and I become very haughty. With Mulan right behind me like a prison ward, and that fact that I know I am on my way to my impending doom. (Not in a literal sense.) I am annoyed, humiliated, and generally pissed.

Two seconds away from being in front of the throne room, I do something that would require a lot of balls for any ordinary person in the kingdom. I strip myself from stupid cape and I snootily stand before the wooden double doors.

"What are you doing?" I hear Mulan shriek, completely flabbergasted. I look at the carefully crafted wooden doors, prepared to be as defiant as possible, but you know that annoying little voice in your head? The one that is always saying "Don't do it." "Say you're sorry." "Stop complaining, be grateful." Yeah that one. Well mine decides to flare up at that very moment, and a pang of guilt threatens to appear. My face falls and I almost feel like I am going to give in. **Almost**. But I quickly, in full teenage fashion, tell the voice that sounds an awful lot like my mother to 'shut the hell up' and 'mind your own damn business." And with that, I thrust the double doors open with all my might and reveal the precious throne room.

In the throne room, a large carpet-like thing, a tapestry is it? I don't know. Anyway, it has the royal crest on it and hangs over the opposite wall, above cathedrae. The rest just looks like a typical throne room, elegantly decorated, fit for a king! **Obviously**. An array of throne chairs line the opposite wall, two in the center being the most prominent. One increasingly masculine and the other giving off a feminine vibe. The king's and queen's chairs. But to me they were just like His and Hers bath towels. On the queen's side are three other feminine chairs, but each contrasting one another, as if it seemingly fitting the owner's personality. Each chair decreasing in size. Then on the King's side, are three other masculine chairs, also very different from one another.

Before the thrones, there are several rows of pews that split on the left and right creating an aisle. This room is often used for all of the townsfolk to gather and have meetings with the royals to discuss issues that go on in the kingdom, kind of like a town meeting or a court meeting or something. In the midst of the floor in between the public seating and the thrones, were a group of several people, all speaking at once, and basically flipping out.

In full teenage defiance, I pretentiously sashay down the aisle of the room, in only my brown tree-bark-print bikini and vibrant red cowboy boots. Did it match? Probably not. Did I care? Not in the least.

At the sound of my clicking boots, the assemblage of people snap their heads in my direction and I swear their reactions were priceless. My mom and dad looked like they were going to pass out from the overwhelming astonishment. Then after the initial shock, their faces morphed into different states of anger and discomfort. My sister, Emma gazes at me with overprotectiveness, but I could see a glint of amusement in her eyes, while my younger niece, Marie, looks at me with relief. Meanwhile, my brother-in-law, Killian, older nephew, Henry, and older brother, Neal, with drained faces, look so uncomfortable, almost as if they wished the floor would swallow them whole.

Seeing the dubious looks on their faces only fuels my satisfaction, and I continue to strut in their direction with a smirk on my face, until I am standing five feet away from them with my arms crossed.

"What are you wearing?!" My father booms, and I wince a little, and upon the sound of his voice I suddenly begin to rethink my grand entrance. I mean, he is _Prince_ _Charming_, being angry and hostile is not exactly part of the job description.

"Don't you mean the lack of?" Killian adds. Still not looking me in the eye and more interested in polishing the hook he has for a hand with the hem of his shirt.

"That's not okay." My twenty-eight year old nephew shouts. Yeah twenty-eight. My family is complicated. Don't ask.

"Did you walk around like that? For all the men to see?!" My teenage older brother yells.

"Why do you care, Neal?" I spat back.

"Because you can't go around looking like…well…like _that_!"

"Where were you?" My mom demands to know, with her hands on her hips.

"Around." I shout.

"Mom, is Charlie in trouble?" I hear ten-year-old Marie ask Emma. Then all of a sudden everyone begins to shout at once, including me, and I guess Mulan takes that as her cue to slip out of the room because she is no longer anywhere in sight.

Gathering his wits, Dad quickly takes off his coat, drapes the thing over my shoulders, and makes sure to button up _every_ _single_ button. All the while he incoherently scolding me, the only reason I know he is scolding me is because of his furious facial expressions.

"Guys!" Someone yells above the chaos. "GUYS!" Suddenly the room falls into a deafening silence and all eyes fall on a tall blonde whose face is mixture of awkwardness and distress, but also purposeful. "Don't you think instead of yelling, we should be working to get the idiot warmed up before she gets sick?"

"Oh real mature." I sass and Emma narrows her eyes at me.

"Enough out of you." Mom says, grabbing me by the upper arm. "You are in enough trouble as it is."

"But you're Snow White. You would never hurt a fly." I retort, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey…" Dad begins to admonish, but my mom quickly grabs my chin and her eyes grow dark.

"You forget, my dear, that I was an outlaw for a good portion of my life. I have faced many monsters, fought many battles, and I know every trick in the book. I am as badass as it gets and you do _not_ want to test me. Do. You. Understand?" I gulp as her green eyes lock onto mine, and I tentatively nod. "Do you understand?" She says a bit louder and with more force.

"Yes ma'am." I croak. She aggressively lets go of my chin and I recoil into myself, as she stands much like a commander and chief would.

"Alright. Boys, clear out and take Marie with you. Emma and I are going to deal with our little delinquent here." Snow commands. She may be the quiet and gently Snow White, but when she's mad it is best to stay out of the way.

Immediately all the boys quickly disperse in all directions, dragging Marie along with them. Soon I am left alone in a deafeningly silent and drafty throne room with my mother and older sister glaring down at me, and all of a sudden I feel five years old again.

~.~

"Mom is going to kill you." About fifteen minutes later, I find myself in a steaming hot bathtub and shivering at having my bare shoulders exposed to the air; which is ironic seeing as in my attempt to be rebellious I hadn't noticed that I was freezing my ass off. All the while my sister kneels down on a rag and works her hands through my curly tresses as she washes my hair.

"I know." I say quietly. Ten minutes ago, my mom had confiscated my bathing suit and disappeared into her bedroom. We haven't seen her since. And I still haven't decided whether or not that was a good sign. She is probably burning it or something.

"Why did you do it?" I, for the first time today, take a remorseful sigh and against my will, my eyes begin to mist with tears.

"I-I don't know." I slump my shoulders. "I was mad."

"You were mad?" Emma asks mordantly, with a smirk. "You were mad, so you decided to disappear without telling anyone. Leave the castle unsupervised, when you know that there are several dangerous people outside the kingdom walls. You miss the kingdom's annual gathering, which you are required to attend, and go God knows where, doing God knows what. Then decide to show mom and dad up by bursting into the throne room with practically no clothes on and making all of the _guys_ in our family flip out?"

"Yeah?" I tentatively say, looking down at my shriveled fingers and picking at the cuticles.

"You're thirteen years old! Anything could have happened to you!" Emma cries, as she rinses my hair with a small dish. "What if you came face to face with an ogre? Or some psychotic sorcerer? You know this land is filled with those."

"I know." I whine.

"So what happened?" Emma asks, massaging conditioner into my long hair. "What made you so angry?"

"Nothing." I hear my sister let out a sigh behind me and her touch becomes gentler.

"Come on, I'm not mom." Emma softly says, rinsing my hair again. "You can tell me anything."

"I just…I…" I try, but for some reason I can't get the words out. For a while, the room is quiet, until my sister stands up holding a towel out to me.

"You what?" I turn around, wrap a towel around myself, and look up at my older sister. I look at her flawless skin and beautiful green eyes. Her blonde hair spilling down in loose curls and her gorgeously embroidered burgundy dress, with the corset elegantly fitted. Forever twenty-eight. And I know I will never be like her.

"Nobody likes me." I tell her just above a whisper.

"That's crazy!" She scoffs. "What do you mean nobody likes you?" I shake my head at her and step out of the tub, making my way out of the bathroom and into my parent's bedchamber. I knew she wouldn't understand.

"Nothing. Never mind." I say, plopping down onto the enormous bed. But I don't get off that easily, because Emma quickly takes residence beside me, and I know the conversation is not over.

"What do you mean?" She asks, gently pushing back a lock of hair behind my ear, and looks at me earnestly.

"I mean I don't have any friends." I sigh. "There are three kinds of people in the kingdom. There are the people who don't like me because they think I am some stuck-up, privileged, snob and talk badly about me behind my back. They give me dirty looks, speak to me so condescendingly, and put up a front with me. Then there are those who always want something from you and don't genuinely care about you at all. And lastly, those who could like me if they gave me the chance, but they are too afraid to approach me or speak to me because they see me as more than human. They just bow enthusiastically, kiss my hand, and incessantly call me 'Your Majesty'. And if they accidentally bump into me, they look at me like they might faint or I might strike them or something. It sucks! Nobody wants to be friends with a princess."

"Aw kid, that's not true." She sympathizes, rubbing my arm. "Somebody out there has got to want to be your friend."

"That's easy for you to say. You're the savior." I tell her, shifting my gaze down to my lap.

"Hey." She uses her hand to bring my chin up, that way I am forced to look at her. "People don't like me _just_ because I'm 'The Savior'." She says, using finger air quotes.

"Yeah they do!" I argue. "You're sarcastic, funny, adorkable, and The Savior who everyone loves. Mom and Dad are _THE _Snow White and King Charming. Killian has made a name for himself as Dad's right hand man and the Kingdom's head nobleman and knight. Henry is the beloved Truest Believer, who is the most pure and sincere. _AND_ you are all magnificently cursed to look twenty-eight for all eternity! Then there is the Neal who is the bearer of the truest light magic, and a knight-in-training. And Marie is just freaking adorable! I am the odd one out. The ugly duckling. I read books and write stories and I don't fit in with anybody."

"You are waaayy over exaggerating us, even for your standards." She says, bopping my nose with her finger. Referring to, what my family says, is my tendency to be overly dramatic.

"No I'm not." I pout. "And that's why I didn't want to come to the kingdom's gathering tonight. I didn't want to be in the presence of all those fake people who don't even like me, who find me weird and awkward. They don't like me, so why should I make an effort to make an appearance and play nice?" My sister opens her mouth to respond, but someone else's voice is heard from behind her.

"You are wrong." That is when I realize my mother leaning against the doorway, with a sad smile on her fair face. "You are beloved by the entire kingdom. People look up to you, admire you, and some may even be jealous of you. That's why some of them turn their noses up at you. They can't help, but see your charm and beauty, and they wish they were more like you."

"Yeah right." I roll my eyes. "Get real."

"I am." She nods. She makes her way over to the bed and sits beside Emma. Even in her casual gown, she even manages to still be the fairest of them all with her black hair down in waves and a leafy band around her forehead. She, like the rest of us, takes her crown off when she isn't in the public eye. "Everyone idolizes you."

"That's another thing." I begin, "I don't want to _be_ idolized or have people look up to me. I don't _want_ to be a princess. I don't like having people expect me to be like all of you. Heroes. Or villains turned good. I am just normal regular person, who just so happens to be the product of true love and consequently has light magic. That's it. I am nothing special."

"That's where you're wrong." Emma interrupts.

"You _are_ special." Mom agrees. "You're different and that's okay. One day someone is going to like you for you. You don't think any of us hasn't felt the way you feel? Lonely. Sad. Scared? We have all been there."

"Yeah." Emma nods. "Me in the foster system and adulthood before I got to Storybook. Dad when King George tried to force him to pose has Prince James and marry Princess Abigail." Mom enthusiastically nods with everything Emma says.

"…and me when my parents were killed and I was chased out of my own home, forced to be a fugitive." Mom adds. "Regina and Hook…"

"Killian." Emma corrects her with a raised eyebrow.

"Regina and _Killian…_" She side glances in Emma's direction. "…when they were hated by everyone. Henry when no one believed him about the curse and our true identities. The list goes on honey. Everyone feels the way you do at some point, but you have to always remember one thing. Good, _always_ wins." She gives me a genuine smile and wink.

"But what if good doesn't win?" I ask.

"I does." Mom says, with a glint in her green eyes.

"But what if…"

"It does." She cuts me off. "Always."

"I guess." I shrug, and suddenly a cool draft enters. I shudder.

"Alright, now." Mom says standing up, ruffling my now dry, wild curls. The ones I humorously inherited from my father's cousin Merida. "I left you nice, clean clothes folded on the bathroom counter, why don't you go in there and change? We will meet you out here when you are done."

~.~

In the bathroom, I look at my reflection in my mother's vanity and admire the light blue casual gown that she laid out for me. It had small intricate designs all around it that were the same color as the fabric, and a thin leather belt accenting my waist. My ocher brown curls as wild as ever, which I have never really care about taming them. I just let them roam free and do their own thing. I just stand there, looking at my reflection, a bit longer than usual…stalling. Stalling because I know what is going to happen when I walk out the bathroom door. Something bad.

Then, just as I suspected, once I open the bathroom door, I see my dad by the window with his arms folded, looking out at the scenery. My mom sitting in one of her elegantly crafted comfort chairs, with her hands folded on her lap. While my sister, still perched on the bed, looks at me with a half-sympathetic, half-'_HA! You're gonna get it_' look, and I know the mood has shifted. There is a cold air in the room and everyone is uncharacteristically quiet.

I bite my lip nervously and walk deeper into the room. My mother looks at me with an unreadable look and clears her throat, which I suppose cues dad to turn around and look in my direction. He slowly walks over to me, with his arms still folded, and dramatically making each step painfully slow. He soon stops about twenty feet away from me, behind my mother's seat, and puts a hand on each corner of the wooden chair.

"Well what do you have to say for yourself?" Dad asks me, with an air of austerity.

"I'm sorry?" I charm, but he isn't laughing. His eyebrows narrow and I know I really messed up this time.

"Charlotte." He sternly admonishes.

"Well I am!" I defend myself, throwing my arms up in the process.

"You know that isn't what your father meant." Mom interjects, sitting in her chair with poise.

"I know I was wrong for leaving the castle without telling anyone and disregarding my responsibility to show up at the gathering. I should not have put myself in danger by going out into a secluded area on my own when I know there are several people out there who can potentially harm me. I should not have been defiant and I should not have been dressed the way I was in front of the guys." I sigh.

"In my opinion, you shouldn't be dressed that way ever." Dad mutters under his breath.

"Yeah yeah yeah." I wave him off with my hand. Geez, why is everyone so over-protective? _Emma_ gets to wear a bikini if she wants to.

"You and everyone else in this family is expected to attend the gathering because it shows the people that we are devoted to them and that we love, appreciate, and respect them. You were told to attend and you frankly disobeyed us." Mom calmly reprimands.

"And on top of that, you put yourself in danger." Dad adds. "What if something had happened to you? What if you were hurt or kidnapped? Or God forbid killed?"

"I know." I interrupt.

"We wouldn't have known. We wouldn't have known to save you." My dad's eyes soften and he crosses the room, only to envelope me into one of his tight embraces. "You scared the hell out of me kiddo."

"You scared all of us." Mom says, getting to her feet and joining the love fest.

I look up at their green and blue eyes and see genuine hurt, fear, and overall relief in their eyes. It is then that the guilt begins to overwhelm me. They weren't really mad at me, they were just scared as hell that I was dead or something, and I feel like the crappiest person alive. A knot forms in my throat, and I have to grind down on my teeth to keep from crying. _Damn hormones._

"I'm sorry." I croak and I kick myself for letting my emotions show. For the millionth time today, my dad grabs my chin and lifts my head so that our eyes meet.

"Never again okay?" He tells me. "Never again are you to leave the castle without telling anyone. Ever. Understand?"

"Yes sir." I nod. It is then that I let out a sniffle and tears run down my cheek. Using his thumb, he wipes away my tears and kisses my forehead.

"However, you do realize that this is the third time this month that you've gotten in trouble right?" Dad asks me, reluctantly letting me go and joining my mother. Putting an arm around her waist and clearing his throat.

"And what did we say would happen if you got in trouble a third time?" Mom raises an eyebrow in my direction and I slump my shoulders.

"That I would surely face the consequences." I mumble.

"Excuse me?" Dad knowingly asks. I roll my eyes and look up at them.

"That I would face the consequences." I say clearly.

"Exactly." He states, and begins to pace slowly back and forth as he relays the details of my punishment. "Because this is your third offense, your mother and I have decided that you are to be at our side at all times."

"What does that mean?" I scrunch up my nose.

"That means, my dear, that you will go everywhere we go for the next two weeks. You will awake bright an early, attend all of our meetings, clean the stables, tend the horses, and specifically speaking, you will accompany your mother and I to King Phillip's castle where we will conduct business. You are not to leave out of the sight of an adult at all times. You will be like an apprentice."

"No." I whine, "Why can't you just lock me in my room and throw away the key."

"Because then you will just sit in your room reading, and you enjoy that. The point of a punishment is to do something you don't want to do." Mom explains with a smirk.

"But I don't want to go to Phillip and Aurora's castle! I hate carriage rides. They take forever and are so boring." I whine. It is then I remember that Emma is still in the room and I glance in her direction. "Why can't Emma watch me?" Emma's head snaps up and we both look at our parents expectantly.

"Oh right, sure." Dad says in a sarcastic tone.

"The last time we left Emma in charge of one of your punishments, you both ended up embarking on an escapade to New York City!" Mom explains, finishing his thought. It's creepy how they do that.

"Hey!" Emma whines. "That wasn't my fault! I was tricked!"

"Yeah. Okay. "Tricked", by a ten year old?" Dad scoffs.

"Dad, if you hadn't noticed, ten-year-olds in our family are very cunning creatures." She laughs, referring to the time when Henry went looking for her at the age of ten.

"In any case, you're going." Mom tells me. "End of discussion."

"Moooom."

~.~

"Emma! Emma!" I call out, bursting into my older sister's bedroom the next day. However, the funny thing is, she is nowhere in sight. Just the giant bed she and my brother-in-law share, a lounge chair, a vanity, a bedroom bench, a storage chest, but no Emma. "Emma? Emma? EMMA!"

"WHAT?!" I hear an irate voice yell from her terrace, behind the curtains. With a bounce I run towards the curtains, push them aside, and reveal my sister leaning on the balcony gazing out at the countryside and Killian with his arms around her waist. "Emma!"

"What?" She asks, as they both turn to face me. I grab the frame of the doorway with both hands and hold onto them, as I lean my body forward so that I am semi-suspended in the air.

"I need five gold coins." I tell them, with an innocent smile.

"What for?" Killian asks me, letting go of Emma, and leaning back on the balcony with his elbows.

"That, is an excellent question." I say, standing upright. "Which we will leave to be answered another day."

"I'm not giving you money if you don't tell me what it's for." Emma says matter-of-factly, with her hands on her hips.

"It is none of your concern, dearie." I smirk.

"Ew! You sounded like Rumpelstiltskin," She laughs, while Killian smirks. "Don't do that again." They both continue to snicker for a few more moments, and I roll my eyes waiting for them to be done. It really wasn't _that_ funny.

"So…the money?" I ask hopeful.

"Nope. Not giving it to ya. Now run along lass." Killian tells me with his famous sinister grin.

"Please."

"No." Emma firmly says.

"A loan?" I plead.

"Where are you going to get five gold coins to pay me back?" Emma scoffs, also taking residence against the balcony.

"That is _also_ none of your business." I quip with a thousand-watt smile.

"It is my business when it concerns my stupid little troublemaker of a sister." She says.

"Wow." I whine. "So you're really not going to give me the money?"

"No." They both say in unison.

"Oka-ay." I lean backwards, still holding the door frame. "I really hate to do this." I tell them, as I move my head in the direction of the bedroom's open door. "DAD!" I shriek as loud as my lungs allow me to. "EMMA AND KILLIAN ARE HAVING SEX ON THE TERRACE!" With that I quickly gather myself up, and burst into the bedroom and out the door. Giggling to myself because I hear angry footsteps hot on my trail that can only be Emma's. I continue running down corridors as fast as possible screaming, "MY EYES! MY VIRGIN EYES! MY ONCE WONDERFULLY PURE EYES! SOME THINGS CANNOT BE UNSEEN!"

"SHUT UP!" Emma screeches, mortified. She lunges forward every few moments and grasps the air in an attempt to catch me. "SHE'S LYING!"

"MY EYES! THE HORROR!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!"

And that is Growing up Charming.

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><p><strong>What do we think?<strong>

**I am thinking about accepting prompts from Reviewers, what do you think? Should I? Let me know by reviewing please!**


	2. War on Christmas

**Hey guys! **

**I know I promised that this would be from Emma's perspective, but this story just wanted to be written. So instead it is from Snow's perspective.**

**Just an AU where there is no curse, but this particular one is about an unfortunate war that occurs.**

**This story is inspired by a song by Miss Judy Garland. Enjoy!**

**OH! And to the guest who requested I write about the twins, it is in the works. I promise.**

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><p>Twas the night before Christmas…<p>

"Go! Snow, Go!" He practically _screams_ with utter urgency.

War. Something the Charming family never thought would actually happen. Getting into perilous quarrels with vicious magical foes, magic induced natural disasters, and being separated by family members, yes. But an actual war where people volunteer to die for a cause, for their land, and for the kingdom, no.

For the few years or so, the Charmings' kingdom has had increasing tension with the kingdom of King George. Political disputes. Espionage. Sabotage, all occurred, specifically on George's side of the quarrel. Meanwhile, troops, escape plans, and battle strategies were in the works in the event that things went south. Like predicted, Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, and the war began full speed ahead.

Fortunately, the military officials had been working with Charming and Snow to figure out the best possible way to extract the royal family from the castle in the event that there would be an attack. Two hours before the actual counterinsurgency began, spies immediately alerted those responsible to execute the escape plan and Charming, Snow, and little Emma were rushed out into the wilderness to escape.

Unfortunately, they had not anticipated for their foes to pick up on the escape plan and ambush them in the forest. Knights, soldiers, and archers all letting out battle cries as their enemies attacked. Under the evening moon, bodies are being mutilated and people are dying at the hand of arrogance and pride. Cannons are being fired, grown men are crying, screams, assault the ears of bystanders, and fires are being set. The forest does nothing to shield them from danger, but rather contain it, and there is nothing Snow can do about it.

Charming stands before her, sword drawn, preparing to join his beloved fellow knights in a night of war and possible death. His blue eyes, flicker red as the fire reflects in his eyes. His face hardened and body tense.

"Snow, go! Go somewhere safe! Keep Emma safe!" He yells above the chaotic noise. She feels herself shaking her head. Her body still in shock, even though she can see everything with her own eyes.

"No!" She desperately responds, "I can't lose you! Emma can't lose you. This _kingdom_ can't lose you!" Charming grabs her by the shoulders and plants a firm kiss onto her lips, and looks her straight in the eye.

"Exactly! This kingdom needs me to defend it!" He tells her. "But you have to go! Do not worry about me! Take Emma somewhere safe!" He gives her an encouraging smile as a lone tear rolling down his face. He strokes the back of his daughter's head and plants a kiss onto her chilled fair cheek.

"But I…" Snow frantically begins.

"No!" Charming shakes his head, "I will find you! I will always find you! Now Go! GO!" He softly turns her around and nudges her to go. It is then she shakes off her stunned state and feels the little legs that coil in a death-grip around her waist, arms crushing her neck, and heavy sobs in her ear.

"Stop being so damn selfish!" She internally tells herself. "Emma! Save Emma! Emma always comes first."

She looks over her shoulder at him, tears running down her face, as she sees his silhouette surrounded by flames, smoke, explosions, and flying arrows. She sobs heavily as she wraps a protective arm around her daughter's middle and placing a firm hand onto the back of the girl's head to keep her in place, before taking off into the wood.

Running, as fast as humanly possible. Just running. Breathing begins to get harder as the wind whips past her face with increasing speed. Struggling to get her daughter to safety, Snow faces the perilous probability of getting captured by her kingdom's rivals, tripping over a root and hurting herself and the child, being attacked by a wild animal, among many other risks.

However, that does not cross her mind at all. Her mind goes blank. She is submersed into the adrenaline pumping through her veins, thus she does not mull over anything, but trudging through the foot of snow.

There is a place nearby that she recalls using as a form of a safe haven, back when she was an outlaw and hiding from the evil queen. Also, the designated hiding spot she and Charming discussed in case anything tragic were to happen.

"Mama!" The girl cries aloud, "I'm scared! We go home, Mama? Now, _please?_!" Snow's mouth becomes dry as cotton, she moves to say something, but nothing comes out.

Soon, she comes to a large wall dressed in an abundant amount of vines. The long green trailers hung so thickly, that it takes Snow a long while to find what she is looking for. After a few minutes of pacing and dragging her hand along the wall of vines, her hand finally loses contact with a firm surface and falls into an empty hole of sorts. She wearily smiles and she pulls back the thick curtain and reveals the mouth of a small cave.

She ducks under the opening and into the dark space. The vines sweep back into place, concealing the whereabouts of the cave, and confining them into a dark limbo. Snow struggles to make her eyes adjust to the darkness, meanwhile, the same darkness causes Emma's cries to morph into shrieks.

The three-year-old screams as if a mass murderer were strangling her, and attempts to climb her mother's body. Trying to do anything that would get her away from the terrorizing darkness. Piercing Snow's ears and simultaneously arising a traumatizing fear that her screams may alert the enemy militants.

Snow begins to force herself to salivate to moisten her mouth, and rocks her body back and forth to try to soothe the toddler.

"Shh." She coos softly, "Mama's got you." She places several soft kisses to her daughter's face, while rubbing her back and navigating the cave by memory. Extending her arm before her, in case she were to collide with something, and cautious with her footing. She finds herself at the opposite wall where she stored several essentials; a large blanket, a small knife, archery equipment, extra clothing, and containers filled with water and food.

Emma's cries begin to quiet down into soft whimpers, as Snow slides down the cold stone wall and into a sitting position against it. She lifts Emma and cradles her against her bosom. Her eyes begin to adjust, she grabs the large wool blanket and drapes it around the both of them.

Snow wraps both of her arms around her small daughter and holds her in a comforting hug. A hug, she realizes, they both need. They are quiet. The roars of the commotion can be heard in the distance. Their breath becomes amplified against the stone walls. The winter cold begins to take a toll on them. The adrenaline begins to wear off. Their breath can be seen as small ghostly wisps in the darkness.

A knot begins to form in her throat. _Charming. Out there. In the midst of a full blown battle and God knows what state he is in. What if he is wounded? Bleeding? Dying? Or even worse, dead. He can't be dead. She needs him. Emma needs him. God, what is she going to do? What is going to happen to them? _Soon thereafter, she comes to her senses and shakes her head, as if shaking off her thoughts. _He is fine. He is always fine. He is Charming for crying out loud! He survives. He __will__ find us._

She looks down. Gazing at her small daughter_,_ who clutches onto her for dear life. Emma. _Her_ Emma. Staring up at her with large watery eyes. Her baby. The small toddler, sucking her thumb and whimpering, making her seem even younger than she really is.

"Hey." Snow soft says. "Hey, you." She brushes a strand of blond hair out from her daughter's face and leans down puckering her lips. Emma slowly takes her thumb out of her mouth and reaches up to kiss her mother softly on the lips, and quickly replaces her thumb back where it was. Snow smiles, but does not say anything. She isn't going to scold her for sucking her thumb at a time like this.

Suddenly, a loud cannon explosion breaks them out of their moment of serenity, causing a loud BOOM! This frightens the both of them, and reverts Emma back into her shrieking state, and the child begins to wail once again.

"Shh." Snow hushes over and over, rocking Emma from side to side. "It's okay. Shh. You're okay."

"I. Want. Daddddyyyy." Emma cries in between hiccups.

"Daddy is at work baby." Snow lies. Well, she isn't _really_ lying. He is asserting his responsibilities. "He will be back soon."

"No more fireworks, Mama." The child sobs. "Me no like them."

"I know. I know." Snow coos, placing kisses to Emma's head, face, and lips. After about fifteen minutes of trying to calm her child, her attempts seem futile. She becomes agitated, not with Emma per say, but with the whole situation. She doesn't know what to do. She can't make the warring stop, the explosions stop. It is then that she has an idea. She sighs heavily and clears her throat. She holds her daughter close and begins to stoke her hair.

**_Have yourself a merry little Christmas _**Emma suddenly begins to slightly quiet down at the sound of her mother's melodic voice.

**_Let your heart be light_**

**_Next year all our troubles will be out of sight _**Snow places a warm kiss on Emma's nose and strokes her cheek.

**_Have yourself a merry little Christmas_**

**_Make the yule-tide gay_**

**_Next year all our troubles will be miles away_** Emma's wails morph into whimpers, as she begins to suck her thumb once more and searches her mother's eyes for comfort. Snow smiles down at her as she sings the lyrics and uses her thumb to wipe her daughter's tears.

**_Once again as in olden days_**

**_Happy golden days of yore_**

**_Faithful friends who are dear to us_**

**_Will be near to us once more_** Emma takes her thumb out of her mouth and frowns.

"Daddy?" Emma asks, "Where's daddy? We go get daddy?" Snow comfortingly nods her head and places her index finger to her lips.

**_Someday soon, we all will be together_**

**_If the fates allow_**

**_Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow_**

**_So have yourself a merry little Christmas now._**

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><p><strong>Okay. First off, I didn't kill Charming for those who are all "OFF WITH HER HEAD!" This is just where it wanted to end it is all.<strong>

**Disclaimer: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas by Judy Garland. **

**Please review :) Let me know what you think and please be nice. I am not a robot. Still got feelings you know. Thanks!**


	3. A Charming Family Indeed

**Hi guys! So I had this written already, so I suppose I shall just upload it. Thank you to all of you who have favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. Please don't stop. It really helps when people review because it let's me know whether you are liking what I write so far.**

**To those who have been writing less than nice comments, it is okay for you not to like a story. It's cool, I don't mind. Not your thing. I get it. But please don't be rude about it. I still got feelings :) And I am sorry for some of the mistakes I've made according to the eye color and the people, I'm human. Sue me. **

**Oh! And if you have any ideas as to what I should write next, leave me a comment of Private Message me. I'd really like to hear from you. After all, we are all aspiring writers here. Let's help each other out.**

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><p><span>A Charming Family Indeed<span>

"Should we be doing this?" A young maiden asks nervously as she gazes up at one of her friends, who continues to scale the iron fence, despite her attempts to get her to see reason.

"Calm down Zabelle." The other teen tells her, grunting as she swings her leg over the top of the fence and straddles it. "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Lots of times!" Zabelle argues, folding her arms over her leather covered chest.

"Please." The girl scoffs, and smiles cunningly down at her two friends.

"Just be careful Charlie." Zabelle tells her. "The last time we did this, Alix got us caught."

"Hey!" Alix defends herself, smacking Zabelle on the arm. "It's not my fault I wasn't raised a huntress. I am the daughter of a nobleman, not a thief!"

"So!" Zabelle argues, with a raised eyebrow. "You have no excuse."

"That's not fair, I…" Alix begins with a pout, picking at nonexistent lint on her gown.

"Oh don't even…"

"Guys!" Charlie calls from above. "GUYS!" Both teenager girls whip their heads in the direction of their huntress-dressed friend. "We are just here to steal some persimmons, not rob the royal treasury. Chill." She swings her other leg over the fence and lands firmly on the sodden ground.

"Yeah, but…" Zabelle begins again, as she hands Charlie her bow and arrow-filled quiver.

"Chill." Charlie reiterates, "I do this all the time." Both Zabelle and Alix look at one another with tentative expressions, but they knew that there would be no convincing their friend into doing otherwise. In fact, they had no idea how they even got in this situation in the first place. "Plus. If we get caught, you both have to scram and get out of here."

"What?" Zabelle's eyes widen.

"Look." Charlie says, with edge in her voice. Tired of having to talk about the act of stealing, rather than actually executing it. "Zabelle are the daughter of a serf, not trying to offend you but it's true. And Alix, you are the daughter of a nobleman. If you are to get caught, then people won't be as lenient."

Without another word, the huntress runs towards one of the many persimmon trees on the expanse property. She stealthily swifts around, expertly hiding behind the trees as much as possible. It looked somewhat comical on account that the tree trunks are extremely thin. She looked like a two year old playing hide-n-seek, who decides that it would be a good idea to hide behind a pole. She just hopes that the abundance of trees in the orchard will effectively conceal her.

Reaching over her shoulder, slipping an arrow out of her quiver, she positions the arrow in its place, and expertly shoots one of the riper persimmons right out of the tree. She repeats the action until there were seven ripe persimmons meritoriously skewered on the ground. With a prideful smirk she leans down and gathers the mutilated fruit, removes the arrows and replaces them in the quiver. She pulls out a handkerchief from the back pocket of her trousers, wipes her hands, and makes a makeshift bag in order to carry the fruit.

She smiled over her shoulder at her friends, who were grinning in return and giving her enthusiastic thumbs-up. She quickly scurries over in their direction, not caring much about being stealthy about it because from the looks of it, no one was around.

"Awesome!" Zabelle whispers enthusiastically, grabbing some of the fruit in her hands. Meanwhile, Alix fumbles around trying to grasp the fruit, but also trying to avoid getting any of its leaking juice on her gown.

"Alright," Charlie begins, reaching up to grasp the top of the fence in order to hoist herself up. "Let's get out of here." But before she could make another movement, she felt a heavy hand firmly grasp her shoulder, which suddenly paralyzes their movements. All of their eyes go wide as they look at one another feeling terror? Fear? Anxiety? All of the above? Basically. Yeah. That is exactly how they felt.

The figure quickly spins Charlie around, and the thirteen year old comes face to face with an elderly, giant, stocky woman. A woman who is scarier than scary. You know those women who look like their names could be Olga and have a very heavy accent. Those with a mole on her chin that sprouts thick hairs, yellowing teeth, very thick peach fuss, and ineffectively try to make themselves look more feminine by wearing their hair in two thick braids. That is exactly how she looked.

Charlie's green eyes widen and her jaw frequently opens and closes, making her look like a dehydrated fish, trying to gather her wits. All the while, her two friends, look at each other and take a few steps backwards, wondering if it would be safe to abort mission. Charlie looks over her shoulder at her friends once again, and nods her head in the direction of the woods, silently telling them to run. They hesitantly make their way towards the trees with worrisome eyes, afraid for their friend's fate, but they know better and they make like the wind. Charlie sadly smiles in their direction, when suddenly a meaty hand grabs a hold of her chin and forcibly makes her whip her head around and look at Olga. Almost giving her whiplash by the way.

"I…I…I…" Charlie tries to get out, but for some reason her usual sly demeanor was not making an appearance. You would be scared too if you saw her face.

"Your name." Olga says in, yup you guessed it, a heavy accent.

"Ch-ch-char…" Charlie stutters, before thinking better of it and saying, "Mary Margaret."

"Mary Margaret?" Olga raises her eyebrow. "I do not think that your name." Charlie suddenly smirks, and shrugs her shoulders. This woman could do whatever she wanted to her, but it wouldn't make her talk. "Why you steal my fruit?" She demands to know.

Charlie only shrugs smugly. "You think you are so smart, do you miss?" Olga irately tells her. "I has a business to run. I no have time for hooligans to come and steal my product. Do you know what people do with people who steal?" No response. Charlie smiles, being drama queen slash rebel is a hobby of hers, so defying authority wasn't too farfetched from her everyday life. "They get arrested."

"Oh right. You are going to call the authorities on me?" Charlie rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "Just for taking a few measly persimmons because we were hungry from our long trek in the forest? Really."

"Yes." Olga states with an air of finality. "Thievery. Trespassing private property. Serious offense." Charlie's eyes grow wide. Damn it, she is serious!

~.~

About an hour later, after having her archery equipment confiscated, being escorted about half a mile through the orchard to a small cottage. In the process of making her way through the cottage, Olga grabbed a rope that was conveniently by the door. She firmly bound both of her hands behind her back with the rope, and tied the rope to one of the pillars that propped the porch up. Then the giant woman disappeared inside the house to alert the authorities, leaving Charlie outside to stare out into the vastness of the forest.

For a moment, and only a moment, a bit of panic began to overwhelm her. Her usual cool exterior, began to deteriorate and the realness of the moment began to take a toll on her. _What was she going to do? Charlotte Nolan does not get caught. It isn't something that happens, she is swift like a ninja. What is she going to do once the stupid authorities come? There is no hiding, no sweet talking herself out of this one, Olga doesn't play games. _This is what runs through her head for the next hour until she sees the royal guard approaching the cottage. Two knights perched on two tamed black stallions in the official royal get up, all pulling a prisoner cart where she assumes is where she will be riding.

They ride up to her and call out for the woman, who they call Helga. Charlie has to try with all her might to try not to burst out laughing at the sound of her name. Tis no better than the pseudonym she had given her.

Soon enough, Helga comes stomping out of the cottage, pointing accusingly in Charlie's direction, which was rewarded with a glare on the teenager's part. This is when Helga decides to take the opportunity of relaying the day's events to the men, but one look in the teen's direction, the men physically had the inability to look away.

Charlie stares intently at the ground, silently pleading it to slow her whole, but then glowering at it and stomping her worn leather boot against the dirt. As if angrily punishing it for not obeying her command. She sends a quick glance in the men's direction and shamefully looks back down, when she sees their mouths agape. Knowing full well that they are not paying any attention to what Helga was telling then, instead trying to fathom how this girl is the one that they had come to arrest. While Helga is mid-sentence, one of the knights approaches her tentatively. "Charlotte?" Charlie winces at the assessment, and ruefully nods, still looking at the ground.

"Helga, do you know who this is?" the other man asks her. The woman dubiously shakes her head and stares at them intently.

"She…" She firmly spits in Charlie's direction, "She steal my fruit. She be punished. Tis Thievery and trespassing. Punishable crimes."

"Yes." Is all the man says, he goes over to Charlie, pulls out a pocketknife and cuts the girl free before grabbing her firmly by the arm. "We will promptly get this hooligan out of your hair."

"Ugh!" Charlie scoffs with astonishment, but the knight simply gives her a conspiring look, which is returned with a look of confusion of her own.

"Thank you." Helga says. "You never come steal from me again miss." She shouts from behind Charlie as she is being escorted off the premises and towards the prisoner's cart, which is simply a giant cell made out of wood on wheels. It takes all Charlie has not to turn around and stick her tongue out at the older woman, but she knew better than to add fuel to the fire. One of the men calmly tries to soothe the woman, while taking possession of Charlie's archery equipment. The other man holds the door open for her and allows her to get as comfortable as possible, before closing the door and imprisoning her. Charlie takes a seat on a small haystack and puts her chin in her hands, as the men thank Helga and ride off down the path.

Once they are at a significant distance from Helga's cottage, they halt and one of the men hops off the horse and makes way to where Charlie was being held. He gazes through the gaps of the wooden poles and does a slight bow before her. "Princess." He says, before giving her an inquisitive look and she sighs.

"I know." She says, looking over at him.

"This is strike three." He tells her.

"I said I know." She sighs and return her chin to its perch in her hands.

"You know what we are going to have to do, right?" He asks her, with an amused grin. "We have direct orders from the King."

"Yes. Now can we get on with it?" Charlie sasses. "I would much rather be somewhere with air conditioning, wouldn't you?" The knight gives her a slight nod and walks away with a shake of his head. _Wait until the guys hear about this._

~.~

"WATER!" a shrieking can be heard behind the heavy wooden door that leads to the jail cells. "Wa-_ter_!"

With a roll of his eyes, the kingdom's lords trudges towards the door and swings it open. Behind the door were three jail cells and in the one dead center held a miniature person. A small person walking back and forth, dragging a tin cup against the iron bars, shouting obscenities. "Water! I need water! I am parched! I am even famished! RAVENOUS! Where is the food in this damned place?! Don't I get a phone call? I know my rights! I know my rights!"

"Charlie!" The man shouts, trying to get her attention.

"I know my rights! This is unconstitutional! EMMA!" The teenager yells.

"Emma isn't here today." Killian says, but Charlie continues to yell absurdities. "CHARLIE!" The girl's head whips over to face him. She drops her tin cup and shoves her face in between the iron bars, gripping each with one of her hands.

"Killian, get me out of here. This isn't fair." Charlie whines, with a pout. "Please."

"It is fair." Killian argues, leaning against the wall across from said cell. "This is strike three."

"Ugh, please." Charlie whines. "Strikes one and two were not even serious offenses." Killian's eyebrows shoot upwards and he laughs aloud.

"Strike One: Setting a barn on fire. Strike Two: Somehow vandalizing your entire school. Those are not serious offenses?" Killian asks, his voice dripping with amusement.

"First of all, the fire was an accident and it was an _abandoned_ barn. _So_, nobody got hurt. AND, we were just testing out fireworks. It's not like we were doing anything illegal." Killian gives her a look and she sighs, "At least not _that_ illegal. And strike two was just teepeeing the entire school, no permanent damage. Just a lot of toilet paper. Wet toilet paper. But nonetheless, no permanent damage."

"Yeah. well, we will see how your parents feel about this." Killian tells her with his signature smirk.

"No!" She shouts. "I get one phone call. I am calling Emma."

"As you wish, Princess." Killian says, as he exits the room. Charlie rolls her eyes and angrily plops down on the down with crossed legs. She looks to her left and right, trying to find something to fiddle with on the dirt ground. Something other than, her tin cup. It is then that she realizes that the cell to her left houses three slumbering men. She smiles. This will be fun.

~.~

"Hello?" A soft voice asks in the empty entryway. "Hello?"

"Hello?" Another voice responds. Soon Killian comes into view as he enters the room. The room was very minuscule, a large cubicle-like desk takes up most of the room and chairs line the wall opposite the desk. It was much like a waiting room of sorts. Once the man takes in identity of the person standing before him, he quickly bows reverently and says, "Your Highness."

The woman softly smiles and nods in his direction. "I am looking for my daughter." She announces, with a slight exasperation in her voice. The knight laughs and leans against the wall behind him and gleefully crosses his arms over his chest.

"Ah yes, the kingdom's little delinquent." He retorts with a laugh and the queen nods with a grimace.

"Yes. She is quite a handful isn't she?" The queen jokes, shaking her head.

"Nah." The knight shrugs. "She's got spunk and she keeps us entertained."

"And gives _me_ headaches." The queen sasses.

"Well I wonder where she gets it from." He lifts his eyebrow and gives her a side-smile.

"Just please direct me to your sister-in-law, Killian." The queen rolls her eyes.

"Right this way, Snow." Killian smirks, presents the doorway much like Vanna White would on _Wheel of Fortune_. Killian guides Queen Snow down a corridor, until they reach the large wooden door that lead to the jail cells. But instead of the room having a very sullen atmosphere, they hear a lot of commotion from behind the door. They quickly swing the door open and have to take in the sight before them.

There are three different cells in this particular room. The one on the left remained empty and had a very eerie, barren feel to it, but the two cells beside it were very lively. The cell on the far right held three of the most mischievous criminals in the land. Not very dangerous criminals, like the dark one or deadly assassins, just very cunning and crude men. However, these men were now shouting animatedly, laughing, and having a jolly good time at the hand of a small thirteen year old. A thirteen year old who housed the middle cell, yelling above the shouting of the large, dirty men.

"Alright!" The young girl shouts, dealing the deck of cards to the men. "The name of the game is _Ogre Makes Love to a Tranny_! Threes, sixes, nines, Kings and Queens are doubles, Aces are the Tyrannies, and Jacks are the ogres!"

"Which are wild?!" One of the men hollers over the other two.

"None!" The girl responds. "This isn't _Kick the Dog_ idiot!" They use small pebbles found around their cells to represent the chips in order bet.

This is exactly the scene Snow White and Killian walk into, and all Snow can do is face-palm. _Yeah. Spend an afternoon he said. That is an effective punishment he said. Charlie: one. Charming: zero._

She internally rolls her eyes, imagining the way her husband would have reacted. _It would have been an effective punishment for me_, he would have argued and simply shrugged his shoulders.

They walk further into the room, but the four cellmates have yet to acknowledge their presence. So engrossed in their game, it takes Snow about three times to clear her throat to rip them their task and gaze at her. All four of their faces look as if they have seen a ghost, all color drains from their skin and if their eyes grew any wider, they would roll onto the floor like marbles.

"M-mom!" Charlie yelps, quickly getting to her feet and deeply swallowing. "What are you doing here?"

"I am here to collect you, _sweetheart_." Snow sasses. In a normal situation Charlie would have rolled her eyes at the term of endearment she had chosen, but this was jail and _this_ was serious business.

"I…" Charlie swallows, trying to produce more saliva for her cotton mouth. "I thought _Emma_ was coming to get me." Sending her brother-in-law a slight glare, who shrugs a bit too innocently, but Snow clears her throat again and she is forced to fixate her eyes on her once again.

"Yes, well. Emma is you sister. Not you mother." Snow retorts, with her arms folded and looking down at her with a stern gaze.

"But I…" Charlie begins.

"We will talk more about this at home." Snow says with an air of finality, which forces Charlie to clamp her mouth shut. "Now, Killian, if you would be so kind and releasing the menace, we will be on our way."

At that, Kilian retrieves his keys from his pocket and unlocks the door, holding it open for the teen. Even with the door open, Charlie stands frozen in the cell, making no move to exit it.

"Charlotte. Now." The sound of her mother's voice was good enough to send a chill of fear up her spine and get her moving. However, she did not successfully get past her mother without a firm swat to her backside for good measure. The girl yelps in pain, while her mother smirks with satisfaction. "Oh child, what am I going to do with you?"

"Love me?" Charlie says, smiling cheekily. Snow's eyes narrow and she shakes her head.

"March." She tells her pointing to the door. Charlie slumps her shoulders and pouts as she exits the room with her mother in tow.

"See you tonight at dinner Killian!" Snow calls over her shoulder. Killian laughs and does a mock salute.

"Yes Ma'am!" Snow rolls her eyes.

What a Charming family indeed.

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><p><strong>Let me know what you think!<strong>

**And to the guest who requested I elaborate on her punishment, I shall try to do so. Thank you!**


	4. Royal Punishment

**Hey guys, sorry that I am lagging with the updates. I have finals right now and it makes it very difficult to write**

**This is for the guest who requested that we see the punishment mentioned in Chapter One. So here it is! Ta-Da! I hope I did it justice. I wrote it very quickly because I didn't know what to write, so I just wrote what I go through when my parents have to deal with 'kingdom issues'. Haha.**

**Thank you so much for the follows, reviews, and PMs. And thank you to JustMeAndMyKeyboard for following this story. I read your drabbles all the time and they are great!**

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><p><span>Royal Punishments<span>

"Ow! Emma stop!" I shriek, as a pillow repeatedly makes contact with my face and body. I am currently on the floor of the living room "chamber"? I really don't know what it's called in 'royal' terms. You know, just the room with the couch and the several bookcases? Anyway, I am on the floor with my older sister straddling me, pinning my arms to my sides, and going at it with a damn pillow. "MAMA!"

"Mom isn't going to come to your aid, you little…" She laughs, as she hits me again. "Mercy! Say "Mercy"!"

"NEVER!" I wiggle around, trying to find a new angle to get out of this death trap. "Get off MEEE!"

"Not until you say "Mercy"." She teases, whacking me upside the head. "Don't ever go around shouting about my sex life, again!" At that, I can't help but double over with laughter. I don't care what anyone says, running around yelling that Emma and Killian were having sex on the balcony was worth it.

"Ma…" I heave in a breath of air in between laughs, "Mam…Ma…Mama!"

"Girls." An exasperated voice come from behind us. For a moment, Emma turns in the direction of the voice, as I curve my neck in an awkward position in order to peer around my sister's gigantic body. When Emma realizes that it is just Mama leaning against the doorway with her arms folded, she rapidly resumes suffocating me with the freaking pillow.

"Emma!" I screech, wiggling around again. Suddenly, I feel my sister's body being lifted off of me and I scramble in a sitting position, against the couch. In a minute, Emma is being unceremoniously plopped down onto the couch, and we both come face to face with Mama.

"What is going on in here?" She asks with her hands on her hips. "It was reported to me that you both were running around here screaming and yelling, causing all kinds of commotion. It is _seven in the morning_, guys. And now I find you, Emma, strangling your little sister…"

"I wasn't _strangling_ her." I mutters.

"Then what exactly _were_ you doing?" She asks.

"I…she…" Emma stutters, trying to find her words, but instead her face grows crimson. I smirk. There is no way she is going to tell Mama what I was screaming as I ran down the corridor. "She was…and I…"

"Never mind." Snow shakes her head. "Your father and I have to get going and you little miss," she says pointing at me, "are coming with us."

"Aww Mom, why can't I…" I whine, getting to my feet.

"I don't want to hear it." She says, lifting up on finger in my direction. "Let's go." She leans against the doorframe, waiting for me. I slowly start walking towards her when I hear a voice whisper "Brat" and a hand shoving the back of my head. My eyebrows knit as I grab the offending pillow that was used to strangle me. In one swift motion I throw it against my sister's face, before running out of the room as fast as I can.

~.~

"One thousand five-hundred and one Mississippi. One thousand five-hundred and two Mississippi. One thousand five-hundred and three Mississippi." I hate carriage rides. There is never anything to do for two hours, but stare at the never ending parade of trees and occasional people walking alongside the same road. I sit on one of the benches with my body slumped and my head thrown back so I am staring at the carriage's ceiling. "One thousand five-hundred and four Mississippi."

"Charlotte." My mother snaps. "You need to be quiet now." I know I am getting on her nerves. She sits across from me, leaning against one of the walls, and stares out the window with her hands clenched. I know she wants me to shut up, but I'm mad, so I don't care. I didn't do anything wrong. I just went for a swim, therefore this stupid punishment isn't justified at all.

"Snow." Dad says calmly. In their own weird way, they just gaze in each other's eyes and I swear they just had a whole conversation just by looking at each other. I know exactly what was said too.

_Snow calm down. Don't pay any attention to her._

_I know but…_

_It's okay._

_You handle her. I'm done._

_Alright. _

"Charlie." Dad firmly says. "Can you please settle down? I know you think this sucks and it isn't fair. I know you think we are the worst parents ever right now. But you made your bed and now you have to lie in it."

"I know, but…" I try.

"Do you want to continue?" Mom irately warns, "Because so help me, I will ground you for a month. Understand?" I am taken aback. I look at her with wide eyes and slowly nod. "Good."

_Geez PMS much? _But in reality, I know Mom is stressed out about something, something probably related to the meeting that they are going to have with Phillip and Aurora. And I know that my being a brat isn't helping.

"Where is Neal?" I ask, remembering that I hadn't seen him this morning.

"He and Henry went out hunting." Dad responds, not looking up from the notes he is writing in his leather-bound journal. I wrinkle my nose with disapproval. _I guess._

The rest of the ride to the castle is uneventful. I finally decide to shut my mouth and make up stories in my head until we get there. Mom and Dad are both on edge when we arrive, as are Phillip and Aurora. That's what it's like to be a royal's kid. There is always something going on and our parents have to fix it, but if you get in their way when they are in an anxious mood. Look out!

Phillip Jr., Andrea, and Caleb all want to hang out with me when they realize I am there, but Mama doesn't hesitate to let them know that I am humiliatingly grounded and have to attend the stupid meeting. During the meeting, they discuss several issues regarding the kingdoms. Some discussions make my ears perk, and other make me die of boredom, but I can't say anything. In fact, I actually just have to pretend that I am not hearing any of this at all. Another con of being a royal's kid, you know everything, but you can't say or do anything. I beg the cobblestone ground to swallow me whole by the time the conference is over, and we embark on another never-ending journey home.

And that is exactly what is going to happen about every day for the next two weeks. That, and cleaning and helping my parents out with 'errands' or as I like to call them, 'stupid excuses to make Charlie work.' _This sucks._

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><p><strong>Please Review! Thanks :) Requests welcome.<strong>

**My next story is going to be centered in Emma's perspective.**


	5. Bad Days

**First off, I made my most recent story War on Christmas as Chapter Two, so if you haven't read that you should check it out!**

**It is MamaSnow!/LittleEmma! Centered.**

**This story is for the person who requested**

**Guest: "****I would love to see Snow and Charming with twin boys who are the spoiled youngest and drive a teenage Charlie crazy. Plus she's embarrassed her parents had more kids while the others were teens."**

**I tried my best to write something that would do your prompt justice but it took me a while to figure something out, so let me know if you liked it :)**

**This story is in the Forever Young world where all the adults stay and grow up to be 28 forever.**

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><p><span>Bad Days with a Sixteen Year Old<span>

Twins. Twins. Twins. Geez! I hate that word. _Take care of the twins. Watch the twins. Where are the twins?_ That's all I freaking hear. Day in and day out. Twins. Weren't the three of us good enough? Emma, Neal, and me. We make a pretty good team, if I do say so myself. But ever since I was twelve, we have the twins. Mom and Dad's pride and joy I guess. Two raven-haired, blue-eyed, four-year-olds who drive me NUTS! I swear.

These are my exact thoughts as I sit in this giant throne room, listening to my mother speak to all of the inhabitants of the kingdom. The monthly town meeting that we continued having after we got back to the Enchanted Forest.

The place is packed with tons of people lining all of the pews. Murmurs and squabbling about all combine to be a sort of white noise around me. Being the royal children, we are all arranged to sit on the first pew, right across the adults of our family.

Mom. At the podium, animatedly addressing an issue to everyone. Speaking loudly and clearly so that it resonates off the stone walls. All the adults in our family are seated behind her, each on their own throne. Dad in the center beside Mom's throne, Emma and Killian are seated beside them with Henry to Killian's right. Meanwhile, Grandma Regina and Grandpa Robin on the other side with Uncle Roland beside them.

Most of the rest of us are sat on the first pew; my older brother, cousins, nephews and nieces. However, I unfortunately had to slip in very late and sit on back pew because of the _twins_. All because the twins took forever to finish up in the bathroom.

"…and we assure you that there…grout the tile…men preparing for…" Is all I hear my mother say because my attention keeps fading in and out.

"Vrrooooommmm! Varroooomm!" I suddenly hear and look over to see Leo running his toy car up and down his corduroy pant leg.

"Shh." I tell him. "Be quiet, mom is talking."

"VAROOM!" He shouts, completely ignoring my reprimand. Out of frustration, I firmly backhand his arm, but only hard enough for him to feel it. "OW! That hurt."

"Shh."

"Chugga. Chugga. Chugga Chugga. Choo-Choo!" Max sounds, getting on his knees and pushing his stupid toy train back and forth on the pew.

"Get. Up." I firmly say in a hushed tone. "Mom told you to behave." He simply shrugs and continues to make the sounds along with Leo.

They _never_ listen to me. I don't know why I am always put in charge of them if they never listen to me. Spoiled brats. If I pulled this kind of stunt when I was a kid, _oooh_ I'd be in for it and then some.

After a couple minutes, Leo looks at Max out of the corners of his eyes and begins to pout. He stands up, marches over to his twin brother, and crosses his arms. "Hey! That's my toy!"

"No it's not." Max shakes his head, making the train roll onto my leg.

"It's mine!" Leo grabs at the toy, but Max tightens his grip on the train and they proceed in a tug-o-war sort of thing. After several "It's mine! Give it back!"s people start to slowly take their attention off mom and turn towards her three unruly youngest children; which I don't appreciate by the way. I begin to get even more irate, so I add a third hand to the tug-o-war mix.

"Give it." I harshly whisper. "If you guys are going to fight, then neither of you gets it."

"No!" They both say in unison. They don't even bother to _try_ to keep their voices down and once mom's eyes start darting in my direction, I know we are busted.

"Give it."

"No."

Mom starts to glare at me, and everyone else in my family looks back at me with embarrassed expressions. I look up at my dad for some help, but he is trying to listen to what mom is saying. Continually ignoring what is going on, in an attempt to make it seem like it was not a big deal and what mom is saying is more important.

Soon, my eyes lock with Emma's and she gives me a 'decapitating' sign, meaning I needed to cut it out. Other people around us start to roll their eyes and sighing heavily, and I know it is time for us to get out of there.

I grab both of them by the collar and drag them out of the room before they even notice what is going on. I schlep them down the hall and into a room that serves as a waiting room and shut the door behind me. Without a second thought, I plop down in a chair and lean my head back against the head rest with a grunt.

"You guys are such brats." I tell them with a scowl.

"No we're not, you're a brat." Leo says, before he opts for spinning in circles with his arms extended until he felt vertigo. Max giggles excitedly and joins in with the spinning as they both let out long and constant "Ahhh"'s.

I throw my arm over my eyes and sigh deeply. All I wanted was to go horseback riding with Alexandra, not babysit the monsters.

Once the twins get bored with their spinning game, they begin to dig in a large toy box that had been placed against the wall. After pummeling me with rubber archery darts, being slapped at with toy swords, tackled for fun, and other obscenities, **Thing 1** and **Thing 2** start a game of catch with a rubber ball.

"Got it!" Leo says. "Go farther!" Max starts to back up as Leo launches the ball into his hands.

"Your turn!" Max yells back, "Two steps back!"

"Wait!" Leo exclaims. He runs across the room until he is standing behind the couch I am on. "Monkey in the middle!"

Max smiles widely and places himself in front of me. They cackle mischievously. The stupid ball is thrown back and forth, back and forth, and I swear with each time the ball is arched above me, I feel my blood begin to boil.

I cannot stand the way that they are allowed to get away with murder and do whatever the hell they want. Especially with me. If Mom, Dad, or Emma were here there would be constant _pleases_ and _thank you_'s and _you're welcomes_ and _I love you_'s. But when they are with me, I get yelled at, smacked, hit, and completely ignored and I. Hate. It! I hate being in charge of them, and I hate that I can't be anywhere else but here. Every time that ball is thrown above me I feel ridiculed and utterly mocked. I breathe in and out, trying to keep my cool. But once the ball is thrown at the back of my head, something inside me snaps.

"THAT'S IT!" I am quick to my feet and launch myself at Max, firmly grabbing him by the collar. Then dragging him towards Leo and do the same to him before dragging them both across the room. In one swift movement, I open the closet door and push them inside. I slam the door and place a spare chair tilted under the doorknob, locking them in.

After a few moments, they both catch onto what happened and start slamming their fists against the door and scream, "Open the door!" "Get me out of here!" "Charlie!" "CHARLIE!" I try my best to ignore their calls as I haughtily towards the waiting room door, but just as I reach it, the door swings open. Startling me for a second, but I soon realize it is just my brother Neal and I get angry again.

"What is going on in here?" He asks me, referring to the constant screaming.

"I can't deal." I tell him heading out the door. "You're turn." But before I could leave, I am quickly yanked back into the room by my arm.

"No way." Neal shakes his head, coming face to face with me. "It is your turn this month, I took care of them last month."

"Not even! Plus they listen to you more!" I yell, pointing in the direction of the closet. "They NEVER listen to me, so it's your turn!"

"No." He shakes his head once more, and heads out the door, but I do the same by pulling his arm. HARD.

"No. I can't do it anymore. You ALWAYS get to do whatever the hell you want and I am always stuck babysitting when mom can't find anyone else. You never do ANYTHING. It is my turn to relax. They are annoying the hell out of me." I yell at him. He yanks his arm back.

"Don't yell at me. I didn't do anything." He defends himself.

"EXACTLY! You never do."

"Oh get a grip Charlie."

"You get a clue, Neal!" I yell back.

"You're just as much of a brat as they are." He tells her, starting to get angry by being ambushed with a tongue lashing.

"I'm out of here." I say.

"No you're not." He lightly shoves my arm, out of frustration. I knit my eyebrows angrily and shove him back. "Stop, I don't want to fight."

"Then let me go." I tell him. In the background the twins' screams could still be heard as I shove him away from me. He grabs my arm to keep me from leaving and I try to yank it away, which becomes a small tug-o-war game of our own. That closely parallels to the twins' fight.

Becoming irritated, I reach up and pull my brother into a headlock, much like the ones we used to put each other in as kids. He struggles as I squeeze harder. He irately grabs me by the waist and plummets me to the ground in order to get out of my grasp. Little did he know that I was going to hold onto his head and bring him with me.

We continue to brawl, rolling around the ground for dominance. Neal simply trying to get me away from him and me, angrily, taking this moment to get some payback for all the times he had done it to me growing up.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I notice the door swing open, revealing a very baffled Emma. She stand there for a moment with her green eyes wide and her mouth agape. Taking in her two younger sibling roughly tussling on the ground, while hearing screams from some place across the room. She blinks for a couple seconds before springing into action.

At this point, I am straddling my brother with our hands intertwined, wrestling. I quickly feel someone's arms wrap around my middle and trying to pull me off of Neal. But oddly, all sense of reason escapes me, and I instantly feel my hands tightly grab fistfuls of his shirt. All sanity has been drained away, and it is almost if I am simply being controlled by impulse. Like my anger had reached its breaking point and there is no going back.

"Let. Go." I hear Emma grunt behind me, but I don't respond. Neal wraps his hands around my wrists trying to fend me off, but I don't budge. I grit my teeth, furrow my eyebrows, and make angry grumbles as I try to pin him down, even though I am half suspended in the air.

"Emma! Help!" Neal complains.

"Charlie! Let. Go!"

"Somebody get us out of here!"

"Help! Let me out!"

"Charlie!"

"Let go!"

"No!"

"Get…"

"…help..!"

"I…No!" Our voices start to overlap and the room spirals into full chaos.

"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?" We all freeze. Neal and I lock eyes, at first angrily then they morphs into matching wide-eyed expressions. _What just happened? It's like we are eight and eleven again. _

It is silent behind the closet door, as if the twins knew better than to make another peep. While Emma's head whips in the direction of the door, coming face to face with the parental unit.

Ordinarily, our current positions would be a comical sight. Neal frozen on the floor, me half-suspended in the air, and Emma in a lunge position holding half of my body, but the parents were NOT laughing. She quickly pulls me away from Neal and we all scramble to our feet. Unconsciously, forming a line formation, oldest to youngest and staring at our parents, waiting for them to say something,

They both walk in, uncharacteristically slow and look around as if they were examining the place. Before making a halt right in front of Neal.

"Where are the twins?" Dad asks us. Quickly, Neal points towards the direction of the closet where the twins are being held hostage. Mom instantly removes the chair and opens the door, revealing two disheveled four-year-olds sitting on the ground.

"Out." She firmly tells them. They both scramble to their feet and join our file line. If I hadn't been scared out of my wits, I would probably have made a sarcastic comment about how we look so much like the Von Trapp kids from _The Sound of Music_. But now is _not_ the time.

They both stand authoritatively in front of us with their arms folded, as if waiting for one of us to crack and say something. We all give one another side glances and clear our throats, but no one says anything. Dad walks down the line, glaring into each of our eyes. Starting with Max, then Leo, me, Neal, and Emma.

"Who started it?" Mom asks, out of nowhere I see four different hands pointing at me. Mom's eyes look straight at me, and I swear if looks could vaporize, there would be nothing but a small wisp of my existence. I gulp hard and try to gather my wits to say something, but only one phrase repeats over and over in my head. _Damn it!_

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><p><strong>Did you like the twins? The sibling dynamic? <strong>

**If you could give me suggestions as to what to write next that would be awesome!**

**Any ideas with Emma? Neal? Both? Snow and Charming? Just let me know!**

**Don't worry! Be Happy! :)**

**Oh! Thank you for the follows and favorites! ****And if you don't want to review, just favorite or follow so that I know you're there. If you _want_ to of course. Have a nice day!**


	6. Born Behind Bars

**Emma/Henry centered**

**The night of his birth.**

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><p>For once the place is quiet. No noise, no screaming, crying, fighting, for once it was complete bliss. You could hear a pin drop, if there were pins to drop. But instead, you can hear the little crickets outside making their melodic mating calls. Also an occasional coyote howl, but other than that, the place was as peaceful as ever.<p>

Currently, I lay on my side with elbow helping my hand to prop up my head. The luminous moonlight shines through the long vertical rectangular window and allowing my room to be illuminated somewhat. I see it cast a light onto my very blond hair, almost making it seem like it is glowing.

By the looks of it, I can tell that it is probably around three am or so, but there is no accurate way to tell. I can just go by the amount of exhaustion my body feels and the ever existing bags under my eyes, but surprisingly I am fully awake. Well, my body is pissed that I'm awake, but my mind is running, and I know I can't go back to sleep until he is done.

My eyes move away from the glistening moon, and look down at a beautiful baby lying beside me. A beautiful pale baby boy with a patch of brown hair on his small little head. The baby. _My_ baby. Henry. I have no idea how I picked the name Henry, I don't even know a Henry. Something just told me that that is what he is supposed to be called. Maybe he told me, with some kind of aura or something. Well, that doesn't matter now. All that matter is that he exists and he is mine.

There he is. His big brown eyes being hidden by his droopy eyelids, as he steadily suckles on the nipple of my breast. I am not going to lie, it feels weird. Really weird. Like, something is sucking on your nipple and it hurts, but it's a good kind of weird because you know that you are providing your kid nourishment. That somehow you can take care of you kid with just the maternal reaction of your body.

That doesn't stop me from being scared as hell, but it distracts me. This small moment of bliss almost makes the rest of my chaotic life disappear and almost makes me feel like it will all be okay. I feel his small little legs press against my stomach, like he is trying to find human contact. So, I grab his little diaper covered bum and pull him closer to me.

"Henry," I say. "Hey kid." I curl my finger and lazily rub it against is soft cheek.

"I love you already." I tell him, pushing up my glasses as they fall down my face. "Swear I do. So much. But I have to let you in on a little secret, okay? You can't tell anyone." I look down at him and he gives out a small little gurgle before resuming the suckling.

"Good. I knew I could count on you. Now, don't be mad okay? Promise? Okay. I was going to give you up. I know, I know, I was being selfish, but I was scared. I'm still scared. I am only eighteen years old, kid. I got out of the system a couple years ago and survived by stealing and committing a bunch of other things to survive. That's how I got into this mess." I gesture to the small room that encloses us. "I have nowhere to go when we get out of here. I don't know what we are going to do. All I know is that I have a car and I have you to worry about now." He furrows his eyebrows a bit and I smile.

"No, don't get me wrong, you're not a burden or anything. I just…I don't know how good of a mother I am going to be since I never had one to learn from, you know? But, I swear I am going to try my best to get us stabilized as soon as possible. I am going to find the best job and I am going to get you into the best school ever when you get older. I promise that you are never going to feel alone and like no one cares about you, because I am always going to be there for you. I promise." He relaxes his face. I softly stroke the back of his head and place a kiss on his forehead.

"You are going to be the best and only man in my life and I wouldn't have it any other way okay? I am going to protect you. I am going to be the best damn mom ever. Even if I don't know what I am doing, I am going to do my best and I won't let you down.

"Even if I work two jobs and have to send you to daycare for a little while until I can figure out what we are going to do and where we are going to go, I am still going to stay up all night with you if you want to. I am going to watch those annoying singing kid shows with you, take you to the park, the movies, and even to Chuck E. Cheese. Maybe I'll even beat you at laser tag, I am the best you know." I smirk.

"Oh! And I am even going to teach you how to make my favorite drink. Hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon." I kiss the tips of my fingers and extent them backward. "It is the best!

"And we can go anywhere you want to go. Anywhere, you can point to any place on the map and we will go there. We can find our own…Talla…hassee." I say somberly. All memories of Neal start flooding into my head, but I quickly shake them off. That bastard doesn't deserve my love or my time. I just look down at my son, who has slipped away into a deep sleep and I laugh. I fix my clothing into place, pick him up, and lean against the cool white wall. I hold him close to my chest and rock him slightly. I smile and my stupid hormones and emotions take over me, and a tear starts to run down my cheek.

"Point is, kid," I shakily say, "I have never had a family, but we can be each other's family. I was going to give you up because I don't know how great of a life you are going to have with me. But I started thinking about my life in the system, and let me tell you, it was HELL. I wasn't going to put you through that too. I am not going to promise that life with me is going to be a picture perfect life in Happy Swell Meadows, but at least we will be together." I say more to myself than to him.

"We can grow up together, okay?" I ask him. With a mischievous smirk, I use my index finger to pull down his bottom lip.

"Yes mommy." I say in a high-pitched voice, and pull his lip down with every word. Seeing him, for the first time, this first night together makes me giddy.

I giggle slightly, and kiss his forehead again. I don't think I will ever be able to stop doing that. Maybe, at first I was freaked out about having a kid, but now I realize that it is a blessing in disguise. It's like some source of power is letting me know that this is a step closer to having the family I always wanted. Telling me that everything is going to turn out for the best.

I smile. This is the most I have smiled since…since Neal. I stare down at my son. The steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. The way his little body feels nestled into mine. My baby. My Henry.

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><p><strong>Review? What do you think? Too many feels? What do you think of 18 year old Emma?<strong>


	7. Karate Kid

**What kind of mischief can Emma and Neal get into when the siblings are couped up inside watching an old movie?**

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><p>The weather outside is frightful, snow and ice everywhere, but the temperature inside the apartment is warm and crisp. Fourteen-year-old Neal wakes up on a Saturday morning, in a semi-dark room, which causes him to look around dumbly wondering what time it could be. It isn't until after scrambling around his bed like a deranged cat, that he finds his cellphone. He brings the cellphone to life to see that it reads <em><strong>9:15 am<strong>_. With a groan, he slides out of bed and rubs his eyes. He expertly maneuvers around, careful not to step on anything sharp that maybe lying around in his messy room. He groggily makes it down the stairs wearing a _Radiohead_ t-shirt, grey sweats and one black sock, his short hair sticking up in all directions and his vision blurred.

On his way down, he notices someone with a full head of blond hair sitting on the sofa. He rounds the couch and plops down on one end of it, looking over at his sister and grunts in acknowledgement. She does the same. He peers over and sees that she is eating a bowl of _Froot Loop_ cereal. With a mischievous smile, he swiftly gets on all fours, grabs the spoon, and takes a huge messy bite.

"Hey," She whines, "that's mine!" She pushes him away and he lands with a thud against the arm of the couch.

"Ouch." He drones, rubbing the back of his head. "You don't have to be so aggressive."

"You don't have to steal my cereal." She mumbles through a large bite. "Get your own."

"Come on Emma." He whines. "Sharing is caring."

"Lazy." She rolls her eyes.

"You're like a bajillion years older than me, aren't you supposed to care for me instead of abuse me." He says, reaching for the spoon.

"You wish!" She smacks his hand away.

"Ugh! Fine." He complains, getting to his feet and dragging himself to the kitchen.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Emma to be at their house on any given day. Everyone in their family was constantly in and out of the apartment, to the point where it felt like the whole motley crew lived there. (And that's a lot of people!) Some days, family members would even spend the night; in the living room, scattered on the floor, taking over his room, his bed, his floor. But he never minded, it has always been this way since he was a baby. This morning in particular, it looked like Emma spent the night on the pullout couch after a long shift at the station with dad.

About thirty minutes later, both cereal bowls are left abandoned on coffee table and the pair of siblings curled on each end of the couch. Eventually, Emma had migrated to lying on her brother's thigh, so that she could extend her entire body on the sofa.

"What are we watching?" Neal asks, staring at the movie on the screen that seemed so ancient, people in the pioneer times probably watched it.

"_Karate Kid_." Emma responds, hugging his leg close to her. In annoyance, he tries to wiggle his leg out of her grasp, but she holds onto it tighter so that he is forced to relent.

"What is…?" He begins.

"DON'T even finish that sentence." She demands, reaching her hand up and grasping his face with her extended hand.

"No seriously," He pushes her arm away. "What's _Karate Kid_?" Emma reaches for the remote on the floor and uses it to pause the film. She lifts herself up and stares at her brother as if he had grown another head.

"You cannot be serious." She tells him. "You are not _that_ uncultured."

"What?" He shrugs. "I have never seen this movie."

"Daniel. Moves to a new city. Bullies. Mr. Miyagi. Handyman. Karate ass kicking. Karate Tournament…!" She says, pausing after each word to see if it rattles his memory.

"Just because you yell words and phrases at me, isn't going to change the fact that I've never seen it!" He rolls his eyes and she smacks the back of his head.

"I can't believe you've never seen this movie." She says, lying back down on his thigh.

"I can't believe you expect me to have seen a movie that came out when dinosaurs roamed the earth." Emma laughs and smacks his leg.

"Shut up."

Twenty minutes goes by and Emma soon starts to realize _why_ she doesn't watch older films with her little brother.

"Oh God!

That was so fake!

He didn't even hit him!" Neal shouts at the screen.

"That blood is so fake too!

I can't believe people thought this movie was believable!" Emma rolls her eyes, trying to tune him out, but she soon realizes the attempt is futile.

"Oooooooh! That has got to hurt!

Come on Danny get up!

Damn! That old guy can fight!" Emma tries to cover her ears to try to drown him out some, but it wasn't working either.

"So Fake.

Wow, did they not have CGI's?

Come on!"

"NEAL!" She irately shouts, scaring Neal out of his wits.

"God!" He yells, holding his heart. "_What_?!"

"I don't need a play-by-play." She tells him, attitude dripping with every word. "Shut-up."

He rolls his eyes, but opts for being quiet.

(It didn't last long.)

"That doesn't even look hard." He says, to no one in particular.

"Wow! That guy totally could have ducked or at least grabbed his leg or something.

Is he serious?!"

_That's it!_ Emma internally tells herself. She grabs the remote and pauses the movie once again.

"You think you can do better?" Emma challenges him, sitting up. Slightly offended that he continues to criticize one of her all-time favorite childhood movies. "That guy went through rigorous training to be able to do that stuff."

"Newsflash Emma. It's fake." Neal says, giving her a look.

"But they represent people who can actually do that." She argues.

"Oh come on, that doesn't even look that hard. We battle dragons, sword-fight, take down witches and evil sorcerers with magic, and tons of other really dangerous things on a daily. What they are doing looks like child's play!"

"Wanna bet?" Emma raises her eyebrow.

"You don't even know karate." He folds his arms.

"But I have wrestled before." She tells him, standing up and smoothing out her navy-blue long-sleeved shirt and plaid pajama pants.

"I can't fight a girl." He says, also standing up.

"And why not?" She places a hand on her hip.

"Because!" He argues. "I can't hurt a girl."

"Oh trust me, you won't be the one doing the hurting." She teasingly smiles, and raises and drops her eyebrows.

"Are you challenging me to a duel, Emma?" Neal laughs in disbelief.

"Indeed I am, little brother."

~.~

Meanwhile, Snow kept herself occupied in the laundry room upstairs, trying her best to get a spaghetti stain out of Emma's white blouse and grass stains out of Neal's white soccer sliders. Usually, being the mayor, having to battle evil antagonists in her life, and being a mom, can cause a major laundry setback. So on lazy days like these, Snow tries her best to keep up with household chores.

Suddenly, she hears a loud thud coming from downstairs, followed by several other thuds, and lots of shouting. She lets out a heavy sigh and lets her head drop forward.

Soon after, she hears a loud, "NEAL!" which she knows is her cue to see what is going on with her _darling_ children. She shakes her head, dropping the garments back into the tub of warm water and allows them to continue soaking, while she goes down stairs.

Moments later, she descends the stairs to find two blonde, thin-framed figures, going at it in the middle of the living room floor. All of the furniture had been pushed out of the way, against the walls and the rug had been rolled up and placed on the couch. She rolls her eyes as she steps off the last step.

"Emma, get off your brother." She says almost disinterested, in a way that would let anyone know that this is one of the many times she has said that phrase. She nonchalantly walks past the tumbling duo, and into the kitchen in order to make some coffee.

Meanwhile, Neal is pinned on his stomach with his left arm being held behind his back, and Emma's knee pressed against his lower back. He grunts in frustration, trying to find a way to get out of his current predicament.

"Had enough, baby brother?" Emma teases, effortlessly holding him down. He continues to wiggle some more, until he is able to roll Emma off him. He scurries to a standing position, as does Emma. They clasp hands, both fighting for dominance, until Neal is able to maneuver Emma's arm in a way that allows him to grab her in a headlock.

"Now what Em?" He laughs, firmly tightening his arm around her neck. What he did not expect to happen was for Emma to hug his torso, pick him up, and slam him to the ground.

The wrestling and loud grunts continue, as Snow shakes her head while stirring her creamer into her coffee. She watches them fight out of the corner of her eye. Emma straddling Neal's stomach, but Neal rolling them over so that he is straddling hers. She was going to let it continue a little longer, let them have their fun, before breaking it up.

She giggles to herself as she takes her coffee into the living room and takes a seat on a lounge chair and crosses her legs. She lifts the mug to her lips and softly blows the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip. All the while, watching Emma somehow outwit her brother into the original position of him on his stomach with his arm behind his back and she using her knee to hold him down.

"Ow!" Emma cries, as Neal fiercely tugs on a handful of long blonde hair. "Don't pull on my hair!" She takes a hand full of his hair, and tugs his head backwards, which is rewarded with a painful cry. "It was cute when you were two! Now it's pathetic!"

"Ow! Let go!"

"You let go!"

"Mom!"

"_Mom_!" Emma teasingly mimics.

"Let go!"

"No!"

Desperately, Neal lifts his head up and stares at his mother incredulously. "Well?" He groans, as Emma pulls on his arm a bit harder.

"Well what?" Snow innocently asks.

"Aren't you going to tell her to get off me?" Neal cries, struggling to find a way out of his sister's grasp.

Two pairs of eyes stare at her, waiting for her response. One pair pleading, and the other full of mischief. She opens her mouth to say something, but after a moment of thought she simply shrugs and continues to blow on her coffee. "Fight back." She casually says, before leaning back into her chair.

"Yeah, Neal! Fight back!"

"Mom! You traitor!"

* * *

><p><strong>Review?<strong>

**PS. Charlotte isn't forgotten, she just isn't in all the stories. But I would gladly write any stories for those who would like to see her. I'd just need some ideas. Thanks :)**


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